Angel Girl
by Bones365
Summary: “Whatever you say, Angel.” He whispered. I waited until his breathing was even and he was finally asleep. Before I, too, drifted off, I brushed a kiss across his jaw." Stories of Ron and Hermione throughout their lives.
1. Angel

_Hey guys! A short little story that just came to me. I don't own anything. Please review!! I promise that I'll love you forever!_

It seemed like everything was black, and I guess it was.

Looking across the courtyard of this huge cemetery, the sky, the mourners, the mood of the people around me, the future, seemed completely oblique and opaque. Black, in a word. Except for the numerous dots of flaming red that could be seen every few feet.

"I didn't even know there were this many Weasleys." Harry leaned down to whisper in my ear. Humor. It was all that really kept us going. Unfortunately for me, I was horrible at it. But I suppose that's what friends are for, making up for your weaknesses, keeping you afloat in times…

Well, in times like this. I looked for one friend in particular. Friend? Or so much more? I couldn't discern the difference anymore. It used to be so simple. When did it get hard? I asked Harry this and his only response was a shrug as he caught eyes with Ginny across the gravestones.

"I guess… Geez Hermione, I don't know." His heart wasn't in his answer. He was just trying to get from day to day. I tried to smile up at him.

"It seems it's always been complicated." He tore his eyes away from Ginny.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that." He looked down sheepishly. I pulled him into a hug before he could get any farther. I rose up on my toes, resting my chin on his shoulder, keeping my eyes open, looking for Ron.

"Harry, if our lives had gone any other way, we wouldn't be the same. And I really like who we are. I have to thank you for that, even if we've had hard times, we'll keep having them. It's just a part of life." Harry hugged me hard, almost too hard for a minute, and pulled away.

"Thanks, Hermione." I smiled at him, but we both knew where we truly wanted to be. For me, at least (and I can't speak for Harry), want is too soft a word. I _needed_ to find Ron, to hold him, hear him say that he needed me, too.

In all the chaos after the war, we rarely had time together. Certainly not the way we were used to. In the past, all I'd had to do was look up and Ron was there, never too far. That's why his abandonment hurt so much. I wasn't used to him not being there.

I turned on my heel, walking back towards the main building. Perhaps he was there. Every once in a while I would nod to someone, or be stopped to talk. People needed words of assurance from me, for some reason. I wanted to scream that it wasn't really me. It had never been me to do anything.

But I was one of the "golden trio". In me, somehow, people had begun to see strength or the future or something. Something that I really had no capacity to give them.

No matter how many times I was stopped, however, my ultimate goal remained in the front of my head. _Ron_.

While we hadn't had a chance to speak after the battle, it had only been five days. Just long enough to miss him like crazy, and not long enough to worry. But I can't really complain.

Even though we hadn't spoken, doesn't mean we didn't find ways to be together. Either I could feel him watching me as I sat across a room, or feel the light brush of his thumb across my waist as he walked by, just making sure I was there.

And then at night. Nothing could take that away from us: a simple pleasure that had begun in that God forsaken tent. With Harry keeping watch, or asleep, we had crept into bed together. It had started slowly, but soon, I realized that I couldn't sleep without him. Or wouldn't.

Even after he'd left, despite all my anger and confusion, I slipped under his quilt to sleep the very first night he was back, and slept soundly. That hadn't changed with the new circumstances we found ourselves in. Me in Ginny's room, him with Harry in his. No.

Even though it meant tiptoeing around Harry, and him knowing what we were doing, midnight found me creeping into his room, sneaking past Harry's cot, and sliding into Ron's arms.

But he wasn't inside the building. As I looked around, throwing sympathetic smiles at every red-head I saw, I didn't see _my_ red-head. I signaled one of the funeral home staff.

"Is there a fireplace I can…use?" He nodded and pointed discretely towards a door on my right. Sure enough, there was a whole room of them.

God bless wizarding conveniences. I thought, throwing some floo powder in. I knew I was in no shape to apparate. In such a shape, even, that when the burrow came to a spinning stop in front of my eyes, I almost toppled onto the carpet. As it was, I reached a steadying had out, and caught myself.

Keeping my hand on the wall practically the whole time, I dragged myself up to Ron's room. _So many stairs. Too many stairs._ But I made it. He wasn't there, but then again I hadn't really expected him to be.

I know that, by definition, I hadn't lost my brother like he had. I hadn't lost someone so close to me, I knew people who'd died, and that hurt, but I wasn't related to any of them in reality.

But the thing is, with definitions and reality, which I had relied on so much before all this happened, were letting me down.

The "reality" is that the family I was apart of had lost a member. The "reality" is that it felt hard to breathe, accept when I was wrapped up in Ron. The "reality" is that I had absolutely no idea how to help him or fix him. No spell or potion would do it. That was weighing on me more than anything else.

I collapsed onto his bed, and curled into a ball, dragging his thick, hand-made comforter around me, up to my eyes, wanting to block out the rest of the world. That was where he found me.

I heard the scrape of his door open an hour later, and my eyes popped open. There he was. Simply standing there. It was the first time we'd been alone since before the battle. I had expected something epic, romantic, or, at the very least, emotional.

Instead, it was just quiet. For the first time, I didn't know what to say. I could only lie there on my side, staring up at him. He was staring back. Finally, he reached up and loosened his tie.

His suit didn't fit him well, tight around his shoulders and short in his legs. As he stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, I couldn't help but think of how these clothes would have dwarfed him first year.

We had all been so much smaller. But we were big now. Big enough to save the world, I guess.

He pulled the covers away from me and I moved back to give him some room. He put his arms around me and I arranged myself so that my head was in the perfect little nook between his shoulder and collarbone.

I could breathe again. I felt him bury his nose in my hair, kissing the top of my head before he softly murmured, "Hi."

Again, I guess I'd expected more from our first words to each other in almost a week, but this suited us so much better.

"H." I sighed into his chest, clutching his shirt and trying to pull him closer. He sighed back, still hiding in my hair.

"Thank you."

I lifted my head to look at him. "Thank me?" I asked softly, curious. What had I done except sneak in here every night for my own selfish reasons?

"Yeah, you." I could almost see his smile. Almost. But he was still grieving, so all I saw were the sides of his mouth twitch. "You've been…" He pulled me up so that I was laying beside him on the pillow so he could face me. "You've been an angel."

He leaned forward to rest his head under my chin, as if he couldn't help it. My fingers came up to run through his hair. "I'm… I'm not." I was trying to think of what to say. "I'm just a girl."

I felt his lips press to the middle of my chest, making me shiver. His head raised so that he was on top of me, looking straight down into my eyes. He brushed my untidy hair away from my face.

"You're not. You've been absolutely perfect. You…You give me everything I need. Like right now." He lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his lips pressing into the side as he continued to speak.

"All I wanted was to come up here and be with you. No one else. And just sleep. Merlin, I'm tired. And here you are. Like you knew…" My arms came up around him, tracing the strong muscles in his back, but when I would have spoken, he went on.

"And every day, you don't ask me for anything. You're here when I need you, you don't push or pry or try and fix anything…I can't tell you how much it means that you're letting me deal with this on my own. But then at night, exactly when I'm at my lowest, there you are, at least getting me onto another day. Sometimes I even _sleep_, Hermione. You have no idea…" He breathed out roughly against my throat, again, sending chills all over my body.

"_Angel_." He whispered like it was a benediction. Like I could truly save him. And the only thing I genuinely could do is tunnel my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, closer, even closer.

But after a few minutes, I couldn't stand it.

"Ron, I really am just a girl." I paused, rubbing my chin over his head. "I…I don't nag you because I don't know what to say to you, or how to help you. And at nights, I'm in here because _you _help_ me _get through to the mornings. Today, I was in here because I didn't want to deal with the crowds and I just wanted to be with you. I'm tired, too."

He was shaking his head, rubbing his nose back and forth under my ear.

"Wrong." He said, and I had to laugh at that a little. "You're wrong. I know you hate that, but it's true. Now listen." He propped up on his elbow beside me to look at me sternly.

"I know I haven't been the most…observant person in the world, but I feel like I found you, really found you, right when I needed you most. You're perfect, like a miracle or something. I don't deserve that…don't deserve _you_. That's how I know you're an angel. You're something completely out of my league, like I couldn't even in my wildest dreams imagine you wanting me, but here you are, with me anyways-"

"Of course I want you!" I cut off his rant. "I've wanted you since third year! Ron, I'm normal." I was trying to make him see. All the things he was talking about? That was him to me, not me to him. Didn't he know that?

"I'm-"

"Just a girl." He finished, rolling his eyes, giving me the tiniest glimpse of my Ron, the man I'd fallen in love with. He sighed and rolled to the side, settling me back onto his chest. "I can see that there's no convincing you, but it's enough that I know the truth, even if you won't acknowledge it."

But even his voice sounded farther away than usual. He couldn't joke like he used to. But he would, soon.

"Maybe we can just count ourselves lucky that you just happen to need the exact same thing as me." I said loftily, knowing that I was horrible at making jokes, but trying anyways. He surprised me with a small huff of laughter.

"Whatever you say, Angel." He whispered. I waited until his breathing was even and he was finally asleep. Before I, too, drifted off, I brushed a kiss across his jaw.

I knew who was really the angel here, and it certainly wasn't me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_Ok, guys! I'm thinking about adding another chapter of periods in their lives, but if y'all could let me know if it's worth continuing, that would be superb. _

_I'll just wait till I get a review or two, or am struck suddenly with inspiration._

_Thanks!_


	2. The Loft Part 1

So that was how it went. Ron and I settled into an intensely new yet well-worn relationship. I couldn't shake the new nickname.

No matter what I did, or how hard I tried. Eventually, I just stopped trying. How do you convince someone that you aren't perfect? How do you tell them that no, really, I'm just counting myself lucky that you even want me at all?

Evidently, you don't.

But as life moved on, and the funeral and the war seemed farther and farther away, I looked up one day to realize that somewhere along the way, we'd become real people. Grown-ups. I'd never thought of it that way before.

It hit me when he asked me to come look for a loft with him. It was around four in the morning and he had just woken me up.

"Angel, Hermione get up." He was whispering, shaking me softly.

"Mmmmm." I frowned and turned my head further into his shoulder. I could feel his shoulders shaking as he laughed at me.

"Hey. C'mon. Mum's already up." My eyes shot open and I scrambled to sit up. He laughed harder and pushed my shoulders back into the pillow.

"I'm kidding, love. It's four." I frowned at him, still trying to sit up.

"Ron! That was horrible. I… ugh!" I gave up struggling against him, still scowling. He was still laughing. As angry as I was, I stopped to watch the way his eyes crinkled up. We had gone so long without laughing that even now that we shared jokes and smiles on a regular basis, it was still like a novelty to see him so carefree.

I watched how his hair brushed the nape of his neck. Reaching up, I grabbed a handful and yanked gently to the side. He grunted as his head jerked.

"You need a haircut." I said, my fingers still tunneling through the soft waves. His gaze softened and I couldn't help but using the advantage I had to pull his hair, therefore his head, therefore his lips, closer.

The kiss we shared was sweet. It reminded me of how our relationship should have started. Like this, with butterfly kisses before I slipped out of bed, or with proper dates instead of clandestine meetings under his sheets.

Of course with Harry's sometimes presence and the fact that we were in a house surrounded by his family, we had never really gotten farther than some very intense kissing, but still, sometimes I couldn't help but think that if we had done this the normal way, we would have been doing a lot more than kissing.

Ron pulled away reluctantly, brushing a kiss over the tip of my nose before looking at me properly.

"So I was thinking, Angel, maybe today we can go look for an apartment." I stared back at him blankly, feeling my heart pound before Ron amended:

"I mean, for me. I was talking to Mum and I think she's ready for things to settle back to normal. I mean it's been a few months and… I think she wants her house back." He smiled as he ducked his head to brush a kiss across my collarbone.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to let the sensations and a bit of regret wash over me. Of course he meant for him. We were barely eighteen. We would be crazy to move in together.

But I suppose a part of me, a very large part, kept saying that age really was just a number to us. Like for us, we'd been through more in one year than most people have to endure their entire lives.

Also, there was the fact that I knew Ron was it for me. I looked at him and, as horribly cheesy as it sounds, I couldn't help but see our children, and my wedding dress, and the cute little cottage we'd have complete with white picket fence.

He lifted his head to look me again.

"What do you think?" He asked, "I've already talked to the realtors and they've found a few things they think I'll like." My eyebrows furrowed.

"Ron…don't be offended or anything, but… how are you going to pay for this?" He smiled smugly back at me.

"Well, my dear girl, I suppose now would be the right time to tell you. I've been saving this for the right time so…" he slid off the bed to stand, "…I have to do this right. Okay." He put his hands out, as if starting a performance and I sat up, curling my knees under my chin and enjoying the show.

"It was a dark stormy night-"

"Ron!" He smiled.

"Okay, Angel. I'll do this your way. When I left the tent that night-" I tensed up a little, not wanting to talk about it, "-I came back here for a bit, but I was driving Mum crazy. Besides I think she was a little…shall we say disappointed in me? Anyways, I started taking polyjuice potion and going down to work at a shop in Diagon Alley.

"It was really low-end. All I was doing was sweeping floors, but the I told the owner some sob-story about my dead parents, and he took pity. Within about a month, I'd saved up some money. Not a hefty amount, mind you, but a bit."

He was pacing and gesturing in front of me, getting into his story.

"So I was sitting around, toying with the idea of coming back to find you. I mean I knew I would, it was a completely foregone conclusion-"

"Ron! I-"

"Yes, yes, Hermione, I've been around you enough to have a bit of vocabulary. Please, let me continue." He gave me a look and I ducked so my knees covered my mouth, leaving my eyes poking out.

"Anyways, I knew I had to get rid of it, and I couldn't just walk up to Gringotts and ask for an account, so I decided I may as well invest it. If nothing happened, fine, but there was a bit of a chance that something could. I found out about some underground dealings in Quibbler stock, so obviously I took that as fast as I could."

I gasped. The Quibbler had been doing amazingly well lately…

"Shh, Angel. Wait. So I invested half in the Quibbler. It gave me a fair sum of money, last time I checked, and is still growing. But-" He held out his hand to stop me as I opened my mouth. "-I'm not done. The other half, I invested with an interesting little man that I met. He was going around the underground like a loon, pitching his idea for a book.

"I was missing you and all your book talk, so I stopped him and asked him about it. We ended up talking a bit, and I liked the idea, so I invested the other half of the money with the little man. His name is Elmer Evelstein."

I had to bite my lip to keep from shrieking like Lavender Brown. Elmer Evelstein had written a book that was a sudden and instant hit throughout the wizarding world. No one had ever even heard of him before, but suddenly he was everywhere, promoting his book about the tactics of the underground and the Potter supporters throughout the fight with Voldemort.

The book had made millions. More than millions. I stared up at Ron, who was smiling proudly and climbing back into bed.

"Ron... how much?" I whispered, hardly daring to guess the answer. He shrugged, sitting next to me.

"Enough. I've put a lot of it back into my family's account, but the pile in my vault just keeps growing back!"

"Ron, You're rich!" He nodded. I could only gape at him.

"Ron, you're like… Harry rich! Malfoy rich! Half of a third world country rich!" he was laughing.

"Probably a bit more than half, love. Anyways, that's how I'm going to pay for my flat." For someone who'd always dreamed of being rich, he was being shockingly humble about it. I grinned at him and shook my head back and forth. He leaned in to kiss me.

"Get a room." Harry mumbled at he walked sleepily through the door and collapsed onto his cot. He'd been with Ginny all night. Ron laughed again and kissed my cheek before pushing me towards the door. I paused on my way out.

"Does anyone else know?" I asked. Harry grunted and flapped his hands at me, trying to flutter me out the door, but I kept my gaze on Ron.

"My family does. That's enough. You never said- Are you up for shopping today?" I nodded at him and bowed to Harry's wishes, closing the door behind me.

*

Later that day, we were in the middle of London in one of the most beautiful apartments I'd ever seen. No, not apartment, more like a small, one-story palace. But even as I admired the crown-molding and expensive carpets and chandeliers, this apartment didn't remind me of Ron.

He stifled a yawn as our realtor, an over-eager woman named Edna, tried to list every feature of the place without taking a breath. She must have broken some sort of record.

Ron shook his head and we were on to the next place, even more ornate than the first. Again, the head shake, and we were whisked across town. I could only glimpse a bit of green and a splash of blue on the stoop of the next building before we were practically shoved inside. Up to the penthouse suite.

Somehow, whenever Edna looked at Ron, she saw only the amount he was willing to pay one his new home. She didn't take in his unkempt hair, or his faded shirt, or scuffed old sneakers, or even his age. No, Edna saw a bit fat check, and was showing us just about as much gold and heirloom wood paneling as we could take.

It was all beautiful, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't see Ron even sitting down for tea in these places, let alone living there. Besides, this penthouse took up three fourths of the top floor of the large stone building. The windows, while large, were high up on the monstrously tall walls. I knew Ron liked to see grass. With these windows, all we could see were clouds.

A third head shake.

But as we were winding down the hall, listening to Edna blather on about how she just knew that this next one was going to be "it", something caught my eye.

We were walking past a large door when a man with a paint can and a jumpsuit opened it and walked out. Behind him, there was the overwhelming impression of light. I stopped in my tracks, wondering just what could be doing that. Edna didn't stop as she began clicking down the stairs, Ron struggling politely to keep up.

Neither noticed my stop.

The painter saw me staring.

"Would you like a look? It's nothing compared to that-" he nodded his head across the hall to the imposing penthouse door, "-but the view can't be bought for anything close to what they're selling the other place for." He raised his eyebrows and swung the door enticingly.

I smiled back and nodded. When he opened the door all the way, gesturing me in with a flourish, I gasped.

This was what Ron was looking for. It was large, but nowhere near the giant places we'd been shown. But the first thing I noticed wasn't the size, but the windows.

The entire back wall was almost completely floor-to-ceiling windows with only small stone columns in between. Taking a step further in, I noticed that they all opened onto a beautiful little terrace, just wide enough for a little table and chairs, maybe a small garden. It overlooked the charming little park I'd only caught a glimpse of outside. There was a path, trees, a small lake.

I tore my eyes away from the windows, trying to take in the rest of my surroundings.

The space was very open. The kitchen made an open "L" shape at one end of the apartment, and the rest of the space in between it and the wall on the opposite side was completely open.

On the far wall, there was a short swooping staircase leading to a large balcony. _It must be where they keep the bed…_ I thought, taking a step towards it.

I heard a low whistle behind me and spun around, expecting the painter. He was gone. Instead, Ron was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, staring out the windows. Edna's face was peeking behind him looking mortified.

"This is… really amazing, Hermione." Ron said to me, pulling his eyes to look from the windows to me to the kitchen to the stairs. Edna burst into the room, pushing him in, looking frantic.

"Well I'll admit that this…place has a bit of charm, but I assure you that it's nothing like what you're looking for! I promise that the last three have been merely the bottom of the barrel! I can get you a flat that-" Ron cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Tell us about this place. Can we look around?" He was already moving towards the staircase. He took my hand as he passed me, pulling me up behind him. Edna sighed helplessly and began giving us facts about square-footage and working fireplaces.

Ron and I reached the top of the stairs. The little loft was larger than it looked from the bottom, but was still cozy, all soft colors and distressed wood and warm chocolate accents.

There was a door leading to what we found was a large bathroom with not only a Jacuzzi, but a shower with five heads and two sinks side-by-side.

In the back of my mind, I heard Edna talking about two full baths and realized that I must have overlooked the bathroom downstairs. But I soon forgot about that as Ron and I stood in the middle of the bedroom-loft. He took both my hands, resting his forehead on mine.

"What do you think, Angel?" he asked. I smiled up at him.

"It doesn't matter what I think, you're the one buying it, Ron. You're the one who's going to live here." He smiled back at me.

"Well yeah, but I feel like since you'll be spending so much time here, too, you should like it." My heart fluttered like earlier in his bed.

"Spending time here?" I asked. He pulled his arms around me.

"I've already told Edna that wherever I find my place, we have to find a smallish one for you in a two-mile radius." Again, I let my hopes fall, but that was a start, wasn't it? Either way, I knew my answer.

"Ron, you're crazy if you don't get this. It's incredible. It's perfect. I don't think we can live without it." He nodded once and kissed me hard on the mouth before shouting down to Edna.

"We'll take it." The silence from below told us of Edna's unhappiness, but nevertheless, within the hour, Ron had the signed deed in his hand.

We went back to the burrow and shared the news with everyone else. Around the dinner table we described the loft.

"The only thing is that it's totally empty, no furniture, just white paint, really bare." Ron said, but his mother chimed in.

"But this way, dear, you can put your own touch on it, really make the place yours." She was beaming at her youngest son, obviously proud. Ron nodded and smiled back to her.

"Yeah. I think we should start tomorrow. Looking for paint and furniture and stuff." He looked at me. "You up for it?" and there was only one reply.

"Of course, I am." I said. So this place wouldn't be completely mine. I mean at least I could help make it. I wouldn't live there, but maybe soon… But I shook the thought away.

Edna had already started the two-mile radial hunt for my apartment. I sat back and let Ron go on and on about his new place. We had all the time in the world to live together. Later. Now, we'd just take it step by step.


	3. The Loft Part 2

_SURPRISE!! Two chapters in one day, which I never, ever do. This means that you should all be very thankful and review. Right?…Right?? Well, they're always appreciated. Enjoy! _

So the next day, we started. I have to say, I'm impressed by just how much an unlimited budget and some sheer willpower can get you these days. A determined Mrs. Weasley didn't hurt, either.

We had painters in on Tuesday, the furniture was all bought and moved in by Wednesday. The plants and outdoor furniture was in by Thursday. Thick, rough looking custom canvas curtains hung around all the windows, and all the kitchen supplies, frames, pictures, art, towels, pillows and various other odds and ends were completely in place by Saturday night. It had only taken us a week to set up what has to be the most beautiful place I'd ever seen.

I'd convinced Ron not to paint every wall orange, but instead stuck with warm, neutral colors like dark brown, cream, and some burgundy. That didn't mean that he didn't put the Canon's colors everywhere he possibly could. There was a framed poster near the kitchen, orange flowers in the window boxes outside. Towels, throw pillows, and accent rugs gave way to his favorite childhood obsession.

But even with that, the mix of dark wood, stone, and stainless steel we'd managed to create was stunning. I told Ron so as we sat on the floor in front of his fireplace, propped against the couch and eating pizza from the place around the corner.

Ron looked around, satisfied. "I agree. We did a great job, Angel." He tossed his crust into my side of the box and I picked it up and chewed thoughtfully.

"I wonder how Edna's doing with my apartment search." I said, gazing again around the loft and feeling the twinge of sadness that I didn't live here full time. Ron nodded thoughtfully.

"That woman's a tornado. I'm sure she's already got ten lined up. Probably more." He chuckled as he picked up the empty pizza box and tossed it into the garbage.

"Do you think you'll be able to keep it clean?" I asked, sipping my butterbeer and honestly wondering. He plopped down close to me and gave me a look.

"Of course I will! You won't let me get it dirty." I smiled.

"Well, I suppose that's true. We just worked so hard on it…" I trailed off, losing my train of thought as he leaned closer and began tracing circles on my knee.

"So...how are we going to do this?" He asked, looking up at me. There are very few times in my life when I've been genuinely confused about something or completely didn't understand. This was one of those times.

"Do what?" I asked breathily, watching Ron's long fingers draw larger patterns up my thigh.

"Well, the way I see it, we have a few options." He kissed under my ear and I swallowed hard. For the first time, it occurred to me that we were absolutely alone in his very own apartment.

"Wha…What options?" I asked, suddenly finding it very hard to catch my breath. Ron chuckled, so much more collected than myself, which would have been infuriating, if I had been able to feel anything other than his lips on my skin and his fingers brushing up and down my legs.

"Well, option one is that we let Edna get you a place, we sort it out, and you only come by sometimes, like…well like an actual couple. Eventually you're things will magically find themselves here, and one day over breakfast you comment on how hard it is to have your clothes here and your coffee pot over there, and I suggest you move in."

I gasped, hardly believing what I was hearing. Ron's hand went back to just my knee.

"The next option, is that we let Edna get you a place, but move most of your stuff in here, anyways, but keep some stuff there. That way you can get away from me when I'm being insufferable."

I could barely even huff out a laugh, my heart was squeezing so tight.

"And our third option, which is my personal favorite, is that we completely give up all pretense and move you in tomorrow, once again disappointing Edna, but living happily ever after in our perfect apartment."

He looked up at me hopefully, and I could barely see because I was beginning to tear up. I cleared my throat and blinked, trying to copy the casual tone he had.

"Well, all the ideas have their own merit." I said seriously, trying not to smile and failing badly. "But I have to say that I think the third option might be the most practical." I moved closer to Ron, so close. His breathing was becoming uneven as well.

"Practical?" He rumbled, running his thumb over my bottom lip.

"Well, not so much practical as…" I peeked up at him through my lashes, "…I really, really want to live here. With you. Right now-" I couldn't finish any more because his mouth slammed down on mine and suddenly I was on my back and we were kissing and laughing.

I realized that we'd both wanted the same things all along, but he was the only one willing to tell me. He lifted his head, running his hands up my sides.

"Angel, you have no idea how happy that makes me." He kissed me again before pulling me to my feet. "There's no way I can fill that closet and drawers all by myself." He picked me up while I was laughing and carried me up the stairs before tossing me onto the bed.

I sat up, grabbing his sweater and pulling him towards me. I knew that there was still one more thing to do to make this place complete. And he had been the one to take the first step, earlier, so…

I pulled back for a moment.

"Ron…" I felt myself blush, but tried to dig in to find a little courage. "I feel like this place is missing something." Ron looked at me dazedly.

"Wha?" he asked, trying to kiss me again. I pushed against his shoulders.

"Ron. Have you… Have you ever heard of christening new houses or apartments?" I held my breath as he froze above me.

"Hermione are you-"

"Yes, I'm sure." He smiled when I finished his thought for him, but pulled me to him for a more tender kiss.

*

Later, much later, my eyes snapped open. The loft was dark, but the windows prevented the darkness from becoming too bad. I turned my head to look at Ron, who was on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. I turned my body more fully towards him.

He must have heard me stir, because his eyes slowly blinked open.

"Sorry. Go back to sleep." I whispered. He grunted once and flung his arm out under the covers, scooping my body up and pulling it towards him. He groaned appreciatively when our skin connected and he tipped his head up for a kiss.

I settled my head into his pillow and eventually his eyes flickered back open, looking at me more clearly.

"Mmm. Time?" He grumbled, rubbing his chin against my neck. I laughed as his stubble tickled my throat.

"Time for me to go back to your Mum's. She'll be freaking out… What?" Ron was shaking his head 'no'.

"My mum told me that she didn't expect you home tonight." I stared at him.

"She…She what?" I gasped, horrified. Surely Mrs. Weasley thought I was some sort of hussy or…scarlet woman! Ron scoffed and pulled me closer.

"She said she knew we'd been sleeping together under her roof, so we might as well do it under mine. Then she said we reminded her of her and dad when they were young and told me to have all your stuff out by tomorrow morning." My eyes widened but I didn't say anything. What was there_ to_ say?

Ron sighed and looked down at me.

"Hey."

"Hey." I whispered back as he kissed my cheek.

"Are you okay? I mean…" I cut him off with a kiss.

"I'm absolutely phenomenal. What about you?" He sighed. I was suddenly alarmed. Had I done something wrong? Had he not…

"Angel, I don't think you're going to like this, but I might as well tell you now." My breath caught in my throat. "I think you scratched me pretty bad." I gasped, sitting up.

"What?!" I pulled back the sheets, forcing myself to ignore his body and look for the damage. I tugged on his shoulder and I knew I'd found it. He resisted when I tried to turn him over.

"I'm fine, Angel, I just didn't want you to freak out in the morning." He looked at my face. "But apparently you're just going to freak out now." He grumbled, flipping over for me.

It wasn't to bad, but still… There were scratch marks criss-crossing his back, imprints of my fingernails on the back of his shoulders. I gasped and brought my hand to my mouth. It didn't look like he was bleeding, thankfully, but before I could investigate further, he turned back over, pulling me down on top of him.

"I'm so sorry, Ron!"

"Shh. Angel, trust me, there is absolutely _nothing_ to be sorry about." I looked at his face.

"Wait you… you _like_ it, don't you?" I was amazed, but he suddenly smiled at me.

"Well I have to say I'm just pleased that mousy little Hermione had it in her." I swatted at his arm. "But really, I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself so much." I sighed and kissed him again.

"You're sure?" I asked, but the look on his face said it all.

"No worries, love. I actually love it. Like you marked me or something." He leaned in for another kiss.

"My Ron." I whispered, hitching my leg over his hip. He groaned and rolled so he was on top of me.

"Yours." He whispered into my lips. I smiled.

"My Ron, my loft." He groaned again, nodding.

"Anything you want, Angel. Though I have to say I'm really, really, starting to love your loft…"

Even later still, we sat around the kitchen counter, eating leftover sandwiches. He was wearing his pants, and I was wearing his shirt. The sun was just starting to peek over the buildings in the distance, and we could just make out individual trees in the park.

I spun my stool back around to face him.

"Did you mean what you said before? About this being my loft?" He smirked at me.

"Of course. I bought it for you, didn't I, Angel?" he leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled back.

"I don't quite like that." I said. He frowned.

"What don't you like about it?" He asked hesitantly. It was my turn to smirk at him.

"Well if I wanted my own apartment, I would have let Edna find me one. I want this to be _our_ apartment." Ron laughed, kissing me for real this time.

"Hermione, would you have put a giant Chudley Canons poster above the Dining room table? Would I have lined half of an entire wall with bookshelves? This _is_ our apartment, Angel."

"You're right." I said brightly, sliding off my stool. "And I want to take a shower in our apartment for the first time." I tried to walk as seductively as possible across the living room and up the stairs. "You're welcome to come and join me." I called over the banister, and laughed when I heard him running across the hard wood floors.

_Our apartment._ I thought as I turned on the showerheads. _I like it._


End file.
